Truth at Sight
by Keysuna
Summary: *Chaper Eight up!* A man with powers rivaling the gods has come to Tortall for power and his obsession; Alanna.
1. One

Alanna could barley make out the figures that whispered in the darkness, all she could tell was that there were five. Drawing her sword silently she crept farther down the alley, careful to keep quite.  
  
"The lord is dead."  
  
"A jest!"  
  
"No, it's true, I've seen him dead my own eyes."  
  
"I can't believe Terin is dead."  
  
"I saw the lord killed 'em"  
  
"Why don't you just say Jo-."  
  
The man stopped and turned to face Alanna.  
  
"Well, well, look what we have here." The same man chided, withdrawing a pair of daggers that glimmered in the dim light. The echo of drawn weapons could be heard as the other's did the same.  
  
"An official order from King Jonathon; The thieves in the section of Lower Southern Chorus will be prosecuted for the distribution of peace, multiple accounts of rape, and the theft of the Verin Family Jewel." Alanna let the words roll off of her mouth as she steeped into the faint light.  
  
"And what happens if we don't agree?" He stood in the light as well, a scar decorated his throat.  
  
"Then we do it my way," Her eyes lit up, making one of the men step back. They conversed for a second, keeping their voices low, Alanna only waited patiently. One looked up, meeting her eyes.  
  
'Most be the boss.' her mind reeled, waiting for them to make the first move. At last one of them rushed at her, she stepped to the side, grabbing onto the back on his vest then kicking him in the knees, forcing him to fall to the ground. Another of the men came at her, a broad sword raised above his head. She let her own blade meet his, then with her free hand punched him in the stomach, causing him to double over and drop the sword.  
  
"Nice bitch, very nice." The same one that had met her gaze emerged from the shadows, flanked by the remaining two. He grinned, teeth decaying, well those that were left. The ones at his sides rushed at her, each with a sword. Alanna flipped daggers into both hands, blocking both swords from coming into contact with her head. Pain then laced it's way from her stomach to her head, she could barely think as the man who had grinned fired violet bolts into her gut. She couldn't spare the energy to block it, her mind was busy with the swords. Sleep and weakness began to overcome her, causing her to falter in blocking and making the blasts seemingly more powerful.  
  
'One of them most be using their magic.' her thoughts were weary as she could feel the daggers slip from her hands and her knees buckle underneath her until her body fell to the ground.  
  
***  
  
"I still can't believe we caught the lioness." The voice seemed far off to her tired body and mind. Sleep was finally wearing off but pain inhabited it's wake. Her wrists were tied to the wall with rough ropes, she dangled a slight inch from the ground. Cuts and bruises scattered among her body, most new but some reopened.  
  
"She's awake," Another voice, the one who spoke came over and ran his hand along her stomach, she then realized that her shirt had been ripped off, all she wore were her bra and breeches. His hand reached her breasts, cupping one and squeezing, causing Alanna to squirm. She didn't have enough energy to open her eyes, or fully comprehend what was said.  
  
"Tyler! Get away from her." It might of been another voice, she wasn't sure. There were footsteps and a door shutting, maybe even a lock, then silence.  
  
'Oh Goddesses, where is George!' she couldn't bring herself to utter the words, her lips were cracked and throat dry, her thoughts drifted back into half remembrance sleep.  
  
"Alanna, are you sure you have to leave?" George's worried voice struck a pain of sadness within her. She couldn't stand this, having to leave George in Barons Swoop, all because Jonathan just wanted to see her again. She didn't believe the bull shit story the messenger had sent her, that thieves were ravaging the capitol worse then ever, it didn't fit. But she had a duty as the Kings Champion to be at his beckoning.  
  
"Yes," she whispered in his ear, then gave him a swift kiss on the cheek. She turned, not wanting him to see her tearing eyes.  
  
  
  
"Good Alanna, your here." The king stood from his desk, offering his hand to the lady knight.  
  
"Thank you your highness." She smiled, ignoring the hand.  
  
"Always a pleasure Lioness." Jonathan grinned as well, taking his seat and beckoning her to do the same.  
  
"So, what's so important that you had to get me to Chorus?" Alanna took her seat and waited no time of ideal chit chat.  
  
Jonathan sighed before going on. "The theives in the lower southern side have done numerous crimes." The warrior maiden listen to him reel off the endless amounts of criminal acts that had occurred.  
  
"OK Jonathan, I think I get it, I'll get on it right away." She rose, but the king stood with her, causing her to stop and gaze into his eyes.  
  
"Alanna, ever since you married George there's been a rift between us, don't you want to. fix that?" he motioned to his room, a hint of mischief in his eyes. Alanna stared at him astonished.  
  
"No way Jonathan, that's in our past, it has been for over 10 years now, don't try to bring these things up, again!" Alanna let her temper get the better of her as she stormed out, giving the king a look of pure malice.  
  
Alanna awoke to the sound of a sweet lullaby, the same one that Jonathan used sang to her on nights that sleep alluded her and days of rain.  
  
"Jonathan." her voice couldn't manage more then a whisper. Wrists were wracked with pain, stomach aching for food, throat pleading for water.  
  
"Alanna, Alanna, I'm surprised we got you this easily, I was expecting we would have to send legions of men to get you, but I should learn to trust in Cert more, he was the one who brought you here after all." The one who spoke with the same voice as Jonathan whispered into Alanna's ear. The Lioness opened her eyes briefly, gazing into the eyes of her king.  
  
"It is you Jonathan." her voice was above a whisper now as hope laced every word. Suddenly a dagger could be see in his hand, he ran it along her side, up her arms and then sliced the bounds, causing her to fall to the ground in a clump.  
  
"Yeah it is." He kicked her as she struggled to stand. Taking her by the wrists, he propped her up, smiling as her angered eyes met his.  
  
"What are you doing Jonathan."  
  
"I'm doing what I should of done a long time ago." He rammed her against one of the walls, breathing her in. She fought against him, but she was to weak to do much.  
  
"Your highness, a group of theives have been caught by the Queens Riders, they know of your standing also." The boy who emerged was breathless.  
  
"What!" Jonathan yelled in rage. He rammed the dagger that was still in his grasp through Alanna's hands, causing her to gasp and cry in pain. The king stalked out the door with the boy trailing behind, leaving Alanna alone in darkness.  
  
A/N I know this sucks, you don't have to tell me it sucks, if for some reason you do think it's good then you can leave a review and I'll make another chapter, until I get five though, don't count on it. Hehe, I'm evil. 


	2. Two

Pain still radiated through Alanna even though it had been a day since Jon had left her in the dark shrouded room, her hands still impaled to the wall. Every time she flinched pain laced it's way again through her body, making her want to cry out. Mind was slow as her body eat up the last of it's nutrition, she focused at one thing, Jonathan. Her feet were tired as well, beginning to feel the strain of having to support her weight for hours on end.  
  
"Alanna, so nice to see that you have decided to stay." The door had opened, Jonathan's voice rang out into the darkness. She could hear footsteps and then hands rest upon her hips, another body against hers, slightly pulling her down causing her hands to cry out in pain.  
  
"Go to hell." She managed a whisper, the pain she felt edged in her voice.  
  
"I'm the sorry that's the way you feel," Jonathan mused sarcastically. His hands were removed from her hips and then suddenly the dagger was slipped out from her hands, causing another flash of white hot pain. Before she could fall to the floor though, Jonathan took hold of her, wrapping her hands around her torso.  
  
"This is the way it should of been," The king purred into Alanna's ear. She then succumbed, stop trying to fight Jonathan's grasp. The pain itself was to much to handle, although it was wearing off, demanding hunger was taking it's place. He then withdrew slightly, noticing that the futile struggle had come to an end.  
  
"What are you going to do with me?" Alanna's voice was weak.  
  
"You'll see soon enough my Lioness." He then forced her around and onto a bed that she hadn't known was there. Her Highness was on top of her then, seemingly deciding what to do until he noticed the blood that still dripped from the wound on her hands.  
  
"Stay here," He seemed again in control. She didn't have the energy to move or try, so she obeyed her old lovers orders, hating herself for it. Alanna did struggle for breath and let her mind forget the shooting pain for a few moments, just concentrated on the air circulating through her body. The Lioness grasped for the power that lay within her, found it, strong and bright. But she didn't have enough energy call it to her, even a simple healing spell seemed like taking on the chamber again. She transferred the small amount of power she was able to muster to sitting up, pressing her bloody hands hard on the sheets, it stopped the blood flow and kept the pain somewhat at bay. Her eyes flickered down to the base of the bed, on the edge was a metal clasp, something an ankle would fit into to. Another one on the opposite side, slowly turning her head, she noticed in no surprise that there were identical bounds for her wrists. She was lightheaded, tired, pained, but above all, she was scared. Scared of what Jonathan could. would do to her.  
  
The floor boards from the outside creaked, Alanna quickly feel back on the bed, shutting her eyes tight as the door creaked open.  
  
Jonathan stood there, white strips of thick leather like sheets in his grasp. He took cautious, tentative steps toward her, perching on the side of the bed and carefully drawing her hands into his hands.  
  
"These are new, a special kind of bandage that is woven with a medicine, your hands will heal faster this way." His voice was caring as he wrapped the thick pieces of sheets around her hands. He stopped, letting his gaze meet her own, Alanna noticed in slight shock that she was crying. "Don't cry my love, everything will be all right." He nicked her chin upwards, smiling, then leaned in and kissed her. It was nothing forceful, something she would of almost enjoyed in a different situation. But she wanted to force him off, to tear him from her body, to hurt him like he had her, but she could do nothing. He finally pulled away, and finished with the bandages. Hands felt instantly better, there was still an aching throb that refused to go away, but it wasn't biting, wasn't unbearable. "You sick son of a bitch." The words were nothing more then a whisper, a cracked sound. In a blur of motion he backhanded her against the face, eyes raged. "I was trying to be nice." He put his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to stop fighting. "Don't you get it Alanna? Your nothing without me, nothing!" He yelled at her, face breath hot with alcohol. He took hold of one of her newly bandaged hands and took it to the metal clasp, locking it in place. Same thing was done to her other limbs, until she lay spread eagle on the bed, red hot tears flowing down. Fear clutched her, she wanted to yell but nothing came out but hoarse cries. She shut her eyes, knowing what he was going to do. A trail of hot kisses could be felt on her stomach, leaving an almost burning feeling. He reached her breasts and clumsily undid the ties to the bra. "Calm down Alanna, this could've been fun, but you ruined it for your self." He rose his body and straddled her. "But I'm not going to let you ruin my fun."  
  
A/N: Jon is evil! Hehe, wow I can't believe what positive feedback I got for this, really cool. So. how's 15 reviews sound for a new chapter? I like reviews if you haven't noticed. If you hate it, don't review. 


	3. Three

DISCLAIMER! RAPE AND PAIN! DON'T READ IF YOUR OFFENDED BY THIS!  
  
  
  
The day's passed like water. Some day's Jonathan unchained Alanna, allowing her to dress and escape briefly into the world outside. Other's he took her in force, painfully stripping her of whatever pride she had left and laying waste to her body. The warrior maiden stayed between blissful and sharp half reality, never really fully experiencing anything.  
  
George of Baron's Swoop surveyed the city streets. Most were mangled in the masses and crowds, but the ex king of theives flew through the inner city like a bird on summer flight. An unseen motion, and a loaf of bread was gone from one of the many street venders. The jingle of gold in his pocket warranted that he was more then able to buy the food, but old habits die hard.  
  
The entrance to the Dancing Dove was covered by two thugs who scanned George as he walked up, a look of almost disapproval on their faces.  
  
"May I go through?" George came up to both of their chins, and glared.  
  
One nudged the other, laughing. "Where have you been city scum? Only guests and high theives can pass though." They loomed over George, overly anxious for a fight.  
  
"Does an ex-high thief count?" He slipped out a dagger, quickly melting into a fighting stance.  
  
"Not that I know of." The two laughed, doubling fists.  
  
George flashed the dagger upwards, catching one of the thugs in the arm as he came to strike. A quick roll backwards saved him from a futile kick the wounded man threw. The other had circled George, coming to take him in a choke hold, but the old king spun, rising his leg so that he hit the man in the head, sending him to the ground.  
  
The fight took all of thirty seconds, not even gathering a crowed. George kneeled down to both men, slicing them on the back of the neck, then stood and entered the tavern, eyes ablaze with fire.  
  
Dancing Dove had changed quite a bit since he had been king, no long did prostitutes roam the floors, tickling chins of drunk men. The clatter of music and rowdy yells of fights were a thing of the past. Now nicely dressed men played cards in clean booths, scantily clad women served, but you didn't touch. The throne was still there with someone in it's seat. George was infuriated, some insolent, naïve, boy had taken everything that George had worked for, everything the pasts kings had worked for, and changed it into something that resembled the palace way of life. The new 'king' was sitting with his back to George as he walked up. George tapped him on the shoulder, ready for a fight, he would reclaim his title if he must. The man turned his head, meeting George's eyes square on, not flinching in the slightest.  
  
"Jonathan!" George stumbled back, eyes wide.  
  
The blue eyed king did nothing more then single for the two men who were hidden in shadows.  
  
"Your highness." George trailed off as the two men came closer. He tried to run, but found that he couldn't, that Jonathan had used his sapphire gift to immobilize him.  
  
"What are you doing Jon." Voice was hoarse and unsteady, the two men were on top of him now.  
  
"Take him up to my room, tie him up and don't let the bitch out." Words were cold, emotionless, and then he went back to talking with the pretty thing next to him.  
  
George struggled against the magic and the men, knowing that it was useless, Jonathan had always had a stronger gift and the two men were more then he could handle even if he could break free of the invisible bonds. So he rationalized and stopped fighting, surveying the situation instead. One man had him in a fireman hold, the other was walking ahead. They had scaled the small stairway that led to the kings quarters, and finally arrived at George's old room.  
  
The man in front opened the door, to reveal Alanna, pacing the room, hugging herself. She looked at the two men, piercing their eyes with her own, then she realized that in their grasp was not a poor stranger, but her husband. Before she could do anything, the two men threw George in, causing him to hit the back of his head against the bed. One turned and left, the other strode in.  
  
"George." Alanna gasped, at a lost for word and knelt by her husband, stroking his hair, voice on the verge of breaking into sobs.  
  
"Hey Alanna." Her lover smiled, painfully, finding faint pleasure in the fact that he could move again and that he was in his wife's arms.  
  
She was thrust back by the guard who took George by the scruff of his shirt and carried him to where the rafter hung low. He was hung by his neck to the rafters, forced to stand on tip toe to keep from choking. Arms were pulled roughly back, bound together. Punched hard in the stomach, causing him to try to double over, something impossible in his current position, and then the guard left. Glaring at the frozen Alanna as he passed.  
  
"What's going on." His words were raspy and emerged only when the guards echoing steps had disappeared.  
  
"I don't know, I was beaten by some thieves and brought here. Jonathan I think became the king among thieves as well as the of Tortall." She stopped, not wanting to go on.  
  
"Alanna, he didn't. hurt you, did he?" George struggled against the ropes and Alanna came over to him, putting her hand to his face.  
  
She nodded, crystal tears falling down her face. "He raped me, and tortured me." Kissing him lightly on the cheek, she stepped back.  
  
"Alanna, c'mon, untie me, let's get out of here." George's hazel eyes met Alanna's, swimming with sorrow and pain. The warrior maiden shook her head and turned away.  
  
"Alanna." The ex king was at a loss of words.  
  
"If I untie you he'll hurt me." Her voice was weak, pitiful.  
  
The door creaked open, putting an end to the conversation. In the door way stood Jonathan, grinning.  
  
"Touching." He strode over the chained man, pushing against his chest so he couldn't move or struggle. His mouth opened and forced it's way into George's, kissing his, exploring. Shocked, George bit down on the sapphire eyed kings tongue.  
  
"Don't you dare pull a stunt like that again." George was rewarded with a sharp kick to the groin, but their lips parted. He stole a quick glance to Alanna, then met his eyes back to George.  
  
"She isn't yours anymore." He whispered the icy words into his ear. Then backhanded him against the cheek, leaving George battered and head low.  
  
"You will watch this." Jonathan grinned and turned back to Alanna, who had stood frozen.  
  
Alanna was forced on to the bed, clothes ripped off and chained in a flash before George's shocked eyes.  
  
"Don't." He gasped, all the hazel eyed lover could handle saying.  
  
Jonathan halted, just as he began taking off his breeches.  
  
"I already broke your beloved, she enjoys this now. I will break you next." He turned his gaze back to Alanna's bare body. "I can see why you loved her." His breeches were off and he lowered himself on to the women beneath him, leaving George breathless.  
  
A/N: Rating bumped up to R for obvious reasons.  
  
Jon is Bi, surprise to me too, or maybe he's just sex hungry, or crazy.. Hm. Wait, oh yeah, this is my story, I get to decide! The power, the power, mwhahahahahahahah, uh, hehehe. I'm so OK.  
  
Thanks for bearing with my horrible writing skills, means a lot.  
  
25 reviews for the next chapter, and I mean it!  
  
No flames whatsoever, if you don't like this kind of stuff, you shouldn't of read, you were warned. 


	4. Four

A.N. Hey everybody, thanks for the fabo reviews! (Did I just say, fabo? ::shutters:: ) Well I just want you all to know that your not sicko's for reading this. R rated stories of this nature are a certain kind of genra that some people like to read, and there is nothing wrong with that. And please, I'm the perveted freak writing this. Anyway, there's some slash up ahead with more graphic forplay then I've had. Just a warning and 35 reviews for the next chapter, happy reading.  
  
Jonathan took George the next week. He had been near sleep, exhaustion and disbelief overtaken him while the king of two worlds untied the ropes that hung him and lied him on the bed. He almost artfully peeled off his shirt, revealing the ex-theives well built abbess. Jonathan sat on the side of the bed and ran a finger lightly over his chest, breathing him in.  
  
"What happened to Alanna." George whispered out the words through cracked lips and throat. The warrior maiden had disappeared from the room two days ago, leaving him nearly mad.  
  
Jonathan took his finger up to the man's cracked dry lips. "I gave her to my. friends" He smiled at George's worried eyes. "Don't worry, they won't kill her. She'll come back."  
  
The reassurance, even from the enemy, allowed George to relax his shoulders, the thought that he might even be able to enjoy this flashed through his mind, but he quickly banished it. This man was not Jonathan, was not the man he had once knew. He would not let himself fall into whatever game he was playing, because whatever it was, had already destroyed the Jonathan he had known.  
  
The kings hands came to his pants and slowly took them off until all that was left was his bare skin on pale sheets. A finger trailed a scare that ran from his shoulder to his lower waist, where he stopped before the groin.  
  
"Where did you get this?" Jonathan was referring to healed cut that split his skin.  
  
"Fuck you." George's voice was stronger then he expected and he didn't like it.  
  
"Your choice." The sapphire eyed man forced George onto his stomach and chained him to the bed, new chains that wrapped around the bed post and bit into his skin. Arms tied at the top and legs spread out at the bottom. He could feel naked skin on his, hands pressing against his shoulders and heavy breathing on his neck.  
  
"You have such a pretty body." The king repositioned himself so he could enter his body, poised to start.  
  
"Tell me, where are the Arian papers?" His voice had gone business like, stern and emotionless. George's mind froze, his whole body went stiff, fear threading it's self around every nerve. The Arian papers, the ones that he had found in the library of the Dancing Dove. The ones that held the secretes to taking the gift from others.  
  
"I don't know what your talking about." Words were muffled in the sheets that he was pressed against. The king took his hand to the chained mans neck and turned it, painfully, so he could gaze into his hazel eyes.  
  
"You know exactly what I'm talking about, either tell me where they are I take you, here and now."  
  
George stayed silent, feeling the kings warm skin nearly on his, the tension that hung in the air, smothering him. The moments stretched into hours that where then torn into seconds, Jonathan entered George and pain ran through him as he struggled against the chains, screaming until his voice was nothing more then a whisper, and still the sapphire eyed man did not stop.  
  
***  
  
Alanna knew she had failed, failed her husband, her country, her king. The blows rained on her, but she didn't feel them, barely flinched as a boot connected with her lip, sending blood down her chin. If they didn't kill her, Jonathan would, or maybe even George would, if she ever saw him again. And even if she did live to die by another event, George would never take her back, she had betrayed him.  
  
The men who loomed over her battered body were thieves she had arrested years ago, she didn't remember them, but they could vividly recall her. A rope bound her by the throat to a wall, in an attic, or cellar, or maybe even the palace itself, but she didn't knew where she was, let alone if she was still in Chorus. Her ankles were tied together and wrists tied in front of her chest. She was sprawled on the ground, though the constant battering sent her in different directions at will. Jonathan had let her dress before giving her to them, but the shirt had been already torn to pieces, and pants did nothing to protect her. One of the men drew a knife from his pocket, and ran it up Alanna's bare arm.  
  
"Having fun yet bitch?" The voice was husky and held hints of ale. He brought the knife to her cheek and drew a lazy line down, emitting blood that trailed downward. Alanna struggled against the bounds again, he began on the other cheek, this time coming down harder.  
  
Then he held it out in front of her, inches from her mouth. "Suck it."  
  
Her blood still clung to the silver edges. She shook her head and the blade was thrust into her right shoulder, causing her to cry out in pain. "I said suck it you slut!"  
  
Tentatively she opened her mouth and felt the knife slide in, cutting her tongue. She had to tense her mouth so that it wasn't sliced.  
  
"You know." He whispered in her ear, letting the blade side a little further in. "I've always wandered if a bitch would survive if I was to shove this up her ass." Then he pulled it out, quickly, slicing the inside of her lip so that her mouth flowed in copper blood.  
  
There was a knocking on the door, one Alanna hadn't seen, hadn't known was there. Both men tensed.  
  
"Open up or I'll have to break it down myself." The Lioness nearly cried out. The voice was Raoul's. 


	5. Five

The door came crashing down, splinter and wood flying over the room. Alanna scrambled to the wall so that her back hugged it and watched with trembling fear as Raoul appeared in the faint light. A broad sword accompanied his right hand a small dagger in left, making the two men's eyes widen. With out thought to she ran to him, eyes brimming in tears she had no desire to shed.  
  
"Alanna, get behind me, if it doesn't look I'm going to win, run, all right?" Raoul wasn't able to bring his eyes to meet her and instead kept them locked on the two who had drawn small fighting knives. Alanna nodded, solemnly, relief flooding over her embarrassment. She slipped between Raoul's massive frame and that of the doors. The warrior maiden could hear the battle rage on around her, but she refused to really watch, she did not knew who's blood flew through the air, and which scream belonged to who. A man came up to her, and she didn't know who it was, until, instead of hurting her, he took her in his arms, and held her. She couldn't take it anymore, the pain, the hurt, the betrayal, the loss, all if it had swirled together, and she cried. Into the arms of the only person who was there for now, the only one she hadn't hurt, yet.  
  
"It's OK Alanna, It's OK." Raoul stroked the hair of his old friend, letting her learn against his body, borrow his strength for her own. They stayed like that for as long as the Lioness needed, when she able to regain herself, to stop the tears, they walked out of the old shack she had been held captive in, and headed back to the quarters of the knight. In silence they walked along the empty streets, Alanna clinging onto her old friends arm the whole way. They were both lost in thought, the warrior maidens' of pain and glimmers of hope. And the knights' of betrayal.  
  
Raoul opened the door and Alanna walked in, it took all of her self control to keep from falling on the bed in front of her in blissful sleep.  
  
"What happened Alanna?" Raoul locked his gaze on her, keeping his sympathy locked in his chest. "I." She didn't know what to say. She sat on the bed and traced one of the flower designs, trying to fight back tears. Her friend sat beside her without her noticing and wrapped a arm around her shoulders. He took in a breath and allowed his judgment to over take his orders.  
  
"Alanna, what happened, you can tell me." He turned her toward him and saw the tears run down her face. But this time they weren't from pain.  
  
"You wouldn't believe me." She turned her head down.  
  
"There's a price on your head, and I'm pretty open to whatever it is, I mean, it must be something big for Jonathan to."  
  
"Don't you ever say that name, don't ever say that name!" In a speed Raoul could never measure up to, Alanna was clawing at him, screaming at him. The hits weren't strong but he couldn't bring himself to stop her.  
  
"Alanna, Alanna! Calm down!" He grabbed both of her wrists, forcing her to succumb to his strength. "Tell me what's going on. Your the most wanted person in Tortall, anyone who sees you is to turn you over, immediately, no exceptions. If you don't then your under arrest as well, I'm risking a lot to keep you here Alanna, but I trust you, and I don't believe that you would do anything to warrant something like this." By this time he had her pinned on the bed and was above her, still holding her wrists. "I want to know what's going on." He release her and rolled over to her side.  
  
Alanna took in a shaky breath in and let it out, not moving. "Jonathan had a few theives kidnap me. He raped and tortured until he. until her broke me. After that he didn't use me as much, but then George came, and he used me again. to break George." She rasped out the words, not daring to meet Raoul's eyes.  
  
"He gave me to some friends of his. and I think he's taking George." Alanna sobbed and curled toward Raoul who took her into his embrace. She sobbed until her throat ached and her eyes were dry from tears.  
  
"Mithros Alanna, I'm so sorry." He didn't let go of her body until she pushed away.  
  
"I'm going to kill him, I'm going to tear him apart and watch as he begs for mercy." Her words were met with a blank look from Raoul. "You wouldn't understand."  
  
"He's the king Alanna, you can't kill the king, no matter what." He tried to take her into another hug, but she flinched away.  
  
"Nothing, nothing gives anyone the right to do what he did to me." Alanna didn't have the energy to cry again.  
  
"Alanna.."  
  
There was a crash that was all to similar to the one from earlier that day. Both of the knights heads turned to the sound. Raoul's door had been knocked down and Jonathan and four other soldiers had emptied into the room. Two of the man went for Alanna and had her by the arms before she could respond to the attack. Jonathan strode up to Raoul who stood and glared.  
  
"Raoul of Mallory's Peak, your under arrest for harboring a convict." With that he nodded and watched as the remaining soldiers restrained him.  
  
  
  
A/N God this chapter sucks, what the hell are you all still doing reading this? I really didn't expect the story to go like this, oh well, when it's 12:00 and you have nothing better to do then write, bad stuff gets written. 45 reviews for next chapter I guess. ::yawn:: Sleepy time 


	6. Six

"Really, I thought I could trust you Raoul, and now I see you harboring the Lioness? Someone who I specifically told you to turn over to me once caught? I'm very disappointed in you." Jonathan Corte, King of Tortall threw a jolt of blue power through the knight. He seemed to glow in the sapphire light as he convulsed and cried out against the pain.  
  
"Did you know that in ancient Carthaki culture they would torture those who were disloyal to the king." Jonathan opened a drawer of the cabinet that lay near the bed Raoul was chained to. He revealed three sharpened fighting knives that glimmered in the faint light. "Would you like to know what my favorite form of their torture was?"  
  
Raoul craned his neck to see the king, he was laying flat on his stomach, hands stretched and tied in to the bed post and legs each bond to a separate post. He was bare. His stomach tightened up when he saw the blades and the glimmer of sadism in his kings eyes. No sound was uttered from him but Jonathan went on anyway.  
  
"They would tie the man up, same as I did you, and plunge a knife into each shoulder blade the other would be used to make a thick gash along the back. After that, one of the kings most trusted men would rape the man, sometimes even the king himself would take part in the pleasure." There was silence as Raoul's mind raced with his limited options and the fear that was making him panic, Jonathan just kept his gaze on the shimmering silver that he held in front of him. At last Raoul was able to summon up enough self control to let out a shaky reply.  
  
"You.. you wouldn't do that."  
  
Jonathan smiled and watched his reflection in the shiny metal, then let out a laugh that sent shivers up Raoul's spine. "Old friend, how very wrong you are, I would love to, and I will, once Talon is done with you of course." And with that the king pocketed the knives and left the room, leaving Raoul shaken beyond anything he had ever felt before.  
  
  
  
Alanna felt safer in his arms then she for the longest time. His chest against hers and powerful arms protecting her, she felt as though sleep could finally take her and the pain would finally leave. His breathing in rhythm with hers, his heart beat with hers, was hers. He was in her without actual being in her. It was an orgasm without the sex, the rawest sense of pleasure. Nothing, nothing could touch her, as long as she was with him.  
  
The blackness dissolved.  
  
Alanna opened her eyes to find herself in a room, one filled with elaborate paintings and lush curtains that framed night pictured windows. A brightly colored rug was thrown on the floor. Chairs made of imported wood and masterfully carved sat in the corner, in one of them sat a man who seemed to be waiting for something. Power shone from him, an almost inhuman amount of gift. The Lioness was sitting lying in a bed made of the same material as the carpet and as beautiful as the curtains. It took her a moment to realize that she wasn't chained to the posts, but a collar was tight against her neck. Even so, it was an improvement to the ways she had woken up for the past weeks. She pulled the covers off and tried to sit up, but found herself to tired to do even that. The man, noticing the sound, turned his attention toward her and stood up, making a graceful stride to her.  
  
"Rest, just rest." He sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her auburn hair, letting his pure blue eyes meet her own violet ones. Alanna drowned herself in his gaze and felt her reality began to drift to the same feeling as that of her 'dream'. The safety, the security, the warmth.  
  
Do you like this?  
  
The voice came from inside her head, not from the arms that held her, but from the distant man who stroked her hair, though she did not realize that. To her, the voice was everything, it was bringer of life, of death, of pain. Of everything.  
  
"Yes, I like it." Alanna hugged the arms tighter to her and closed her eyes again.  
  
Then I'm sorry  
  
The security of the 'dream' evaporated, and in it's place was a mind numbing fear. Stumbling from the shift, Alanna ran though the nothingness that was this place. Feeling the monsters of her childhood nightmares surround her and her own emotions throwing itself on a pain filled ride. She could barely think as she ran blindly, knowing in the recesses of her mind that the feelings weren't hers, but they felt all to real for her to come to grips with that reality.  
  
I control you. Your memories are an open book, your emotions, clay. I can violate you with my mind by using your own thoughts. I can do things that can make what Jonathan did to you feel like pleasure. I can be worse then the chamber  
  
The voice flooded in from all around her until her ears were pounding with it. Every word was interlaced with a sorrow, despair, loss. Every syllable another cut of the skin. The voice was higher then Mithros, stronger then Mother Flame. The gods would tremble in his gaze and mortals perish at his whim.  
  
Alanna's hands were blood stained, every one she had ever killed lay scattered around her. The bodies tolled over fifty. Spiders appeared from the ground and begun to feast on the dead. One man with dark hair and eyes stood from the pile, one eyes missing, leaving a gaping whole, and the left arm dangled. He walked toward her, and in a strength she couldn't defend against he forced her to the ground.  
  
"Alex.. It can't be.."  
  
She rasped the words and fought against him which did nothing. He stripped her down and did the same himself. Alanna could do nothing against him, and then he was in her, pumping her. It felt like every movement was magnified ten fold. And she screamed.  
  
She was still screaming when she found herself back in the bed, back to where the man was stroking her hair.  
  
"What..."  
  
The man took a finger to her lips and silenced her.  
  
"Did you not hear my speech? That, was only a glimpse of what I can do, and the more I enter you, the better I'll know you, and the more I can twist your reality like that." He stopped, watching as Alanna's eyes widened. "Oh, don't look so afraid, only Jonathan will hurt you out here. Though you'll come to find that I can be much worse." The man flashed a smile of perfect teeth. "Now, I have other business to attend to, you just stay here and I won't hand you over to your king." He stood, robes spilling over his figure and blonde hair falling into his eyes. As he walked near the door, the turned to her.  
  
"You just be a good girl." He nodded and left.  
  
  
  
A/N OK everybody, were going to go over proper reviewing etiquette. From no on, the same review, will be counted as ONE review. In other words (and I'm talking to you 123) posting 'Im reviewing' is not only a bad review, you posted it seven times! Please don't do that! If Xanthe can take the time to make a nice review, then you can too! Also, review as much as you want! I love reviews, I thrive on reviews, I'm a selfish bitch who needs reviews to live! Anyway, I'd like to make a special thanks to Xanthe, Angle of Storms, Keita and Cami of Queenscove for being really cool people and leaving really cool reviews. So, in honor of the people who do leave good reviews, I've uploaded two chapters in two days and you need only five reviews for the next chapter. (and I mean five, DIFFERENT reviews)  
  
Sorry I sound like such a bitch, one o'clock in the morning and I just wrote three pages of fan fiction in 10 sized font. God I'm insane.. 


	7. Seven

George watched as the sun spilled onto the mountains. Gold seeped onto the balcony he stood upon, washing it in it's bright color. He was happy, content, watching over his own fiefdom, his family still asleep in their beds. Everything was perfect, everything was now fine, his life was fulfilled and he, finally, happy.  
  
He felt a soft hand on his, weight on his shoulder, and his wife's face beside him. He hadn't heard her get up, but was grateful for her presence, for her being there beside him. Their love was something no one could break, a love that he had wanted all his life, and no king, even the one of his own country, would destroy it. His eyes met the purple, and before she could smile, he was kissing her.  
  
Then she was gone.  
  
For a second, all George could see was darkness, all he felt was darkness. Then the longing cut thought it, the want for skin, any skin to be on his, to feel the pleasure run along him, the pain. And he didn't care who it was, who was doing what, as long it fed the hunger. For countless moments, all he could feel was the thirst for lust, for touch.  
  
Relief ran through him, the pleasure was in him. He let himself feel it, be it, without thinking, without even being him. He was only the feeling, only the intense heat that coursed through his veins. For minutes, he couldn't sense anything else. At last, his eyes cleared, his whole body shuttered from the rush and the high dropped, leaving him exhausted. When his senses cleared, he saw the one he was still in, a girl, young, blonde, beautiful. She was chained to the bed, naked, there solely for George's use. His mind told him to turn and leave, this wasn't Alanna, wasn't his wife. But he didn't feel as though it was wrong, as though it didn't mean anything. This chained beauty felt so much better then the bitch who usually occupied him. She screamed, and he realized that she had been screaming for a long time now. It was pain, the screams came from pain, and this time, he thrust into her, but not because he needed it, but because he wanted to hurt her, wanted her to feel it. To love it and hate it, to despise him and want him.  
  
It was gone then, and in it's place the blackness. And the knowledge of what he had done, what he had felt. He didn't know what to do, to scream or run, or what was happening.  
  
I have to admit, that was quit entertaining. You are much easier then your wife  
  
At last, George had something to turn his rage against. But what it was, he couldn't understand, it was as much in him as it was something different.  
  
When I'm done, you'll see what I am, but for now, there's so much more fun to have  
  
Overcome by confusion, he only faintly grasped at the idea that the thing had read his thoughts.  
  
"Fun?" George whispered the words, not wanting to know, not wanting to believe any of this.  
  
Yes, fun  
  
And then he was standing with a sword in his hand, but couldn't move. In front of him lay Alanna, his mother, Myles, all those he was close to, were hanging by their feet, hands tied behind their back. Some were crying, some screaming curses in his name. When he realized he could move, he took the blade, and slaughtered an old friend. The man screamed as he died, and George was disappointed he had ended the life so fast. On the next body, his ex girlfriend, he made sure to take longer, so that her screams drowned out the others. He killed all of them, except one, enjoying their pain. And when the blood drenched the floors, he turned his sights to the one still living. Alanna, who glared at him like he was the source of all her pain, of the all her suffering. And he knew he was. Without thinking, he walked towered her, watching the silver blade glisten in the faint light. When he was up to her, he knelt down, so he was eye level.  
  
"I should of done this a long time ago." He re griped the sword and put it so it was straight in front of her. Only her eyes betrayed her, screaming with fear. George slid the blade down her stomach, the across, then through and cut her legs and arms and broke her spine. And still she was alive, screaming, and he drank it.  
  
"I believe you enjoyed that." Dizziness overwhelmed George, there was no blood on him, which he couldn't believe, hadn't he just killed..."  
  
"Gods! No, no, I didn't, that wasn't.. me, not how could I..." He struggled against the chain that held his arms above his head, and screamed and cried. Could still hear the screams, the hate...  
  
"But you did." The voice came from the man who had spoken before. He gave a mocking bow, blond hair falling into eyes, and left George alone in darkness. + + *** + + Jonathan stood over the sleeping Alanna, watching her steady breathing. Her red hair falling into her cleavage, and he wanted to brush it away, but kept from it. Talon hadn't yet given him orders, and to punished by Talon was not something he wished for. There was a collar binding her to the bed, silver and glistening in the streamed light. Jonathan had no more desire to see her chained up, he couldn't ever remember why he had wanted her to, ever. Why he had wanted to hurt her, to break her. But it had felt so good, so amazing..  
  
He took the collar in his hands and streamed his gift through it, until it broke, shattering around her pale neck. Picking up the pieces, he accidentally hit her shoulder, lightly, but enough to wake her up. At first he waited on bated breath as she struggled awake, slowly walking toward the door. When her eyes opened and met his, she let out a silent scream and shivered. Alanna, his champion, his friend, hated him. Jonathan was about to say something, try to fix it, try to explain to her why he had been doing it, but couldn't grasp onto why he had. That, and he felt no need to apologize, he felt as though he hadn't done anything wrong, though, he knew he had. The door opened and Alanna's eyes flickered toward two figures; Talon and Raoul.  
  
"Jonathan, come here." The man, Talon said distantly, eyes on the king. Jonathan nodded and came to kneel by him.  
  
Talon shook his head. "Stand up you idiot." Jonathan nodded and stood, having to look up to see the man. The taller man gazed into the kings eyes, glazed over in a trance that Jonathan was as well caught in. Silence only last a few seconds, as Jonathan stumbled back, dizzy and lost. When he regained his composure he met the mans eye's again, but this time it was with hate, not blind trust.  
  
"I'll kill you, I'll make sure that every warrior in the kingdom of Tortall is set on your destruction. You will not be able to do what you did to me, what you made me do, ever again here." The king's words sounded sure, sounded like the real Jonathan that Alanna had thought gone.  
  
"No, actually, you won't." Talon nodded to the knight that had stood behind him. Drawing his long sword, Raoul drew it across his kinds throat before he could respond to the attack. Coughing on his own blood, Jonathan buckled and fell to the ground.  
  
Raoul went for the door and Talon followed suit, but turned when he heard the whimper from Alanna. "Don't worry my sweet, I'll have the body removed soon, and maybe I'll even let you go." With that he went through the door and closed it behind him.  
  
Alanna moved off the bed in a speed she didn't know she had the energy for. Taking her old lover in her arms, she tried to call upon her gift, trying to force the wound to heal. But as she stared into his death glazed eyes, she couldn't bring herself to call upon all her magic. She hated him with everything in her, he deserved to die.  
  
He clutched her hand, but it wasn't strong, the blood loss was getting to him. "Alanna.. I'm so sorry.."  
  
The Lioness squeezed the hand tighter and tried to look past the pain he had caused her. He had been her friend, once, and something was going on, there was an explanation for this, for all of this. She concentrated harder, closing her eyes and letting the power flow from her to him. At last, when she had only enough energy to keep from passing out, she caustically opened her eyes, to see a scar where the cut had been, and her king breathing heavily.  
  
"Alanna." Jonathan bit his lip as she froze, body going rigid. "You have to understand... Mithros, I can't believe I did that." The king felt a tear roll down his face, memories of the same body that was next to him coming much to strongly. "Alanna, by the gods I wasn't in control of myself, it was Talon, I didn't want to! You have to believe me, I didn't want to!" He was sobbing, crying, curled into a ball and Alanna didn't know what to do.  
  
"I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to, I didn't want to..." Alanna crawled over to him and stroked his hair, knowing he was speaking the truth. The man, Talon had done worse to her, and she didn't have a hard time believing that he was in charge of all this.  
  
"It's all right Jon, just stop crying." She spoke the words hoarsely, nonchalantly and she knew they did little to help.  
  
A/N You guys wanted Ralon or Jaren or Thom or Roger? ::shakes head:: It's my own made of character and no one can steal it! So I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, the story should be coming to an end either next or after next chapter. Don't worry though, I promise for a good finish.  
  
Whatever on the reviews, just review. Hope you all had a good holiday! 


	8. Eight

George walked through a garden, over ridden with violets. A crescent moon hung luminously in the sky, emitting enough light to direct his way along the path. He would of sworn it was silent, but there was the occasional rustle in the bush, or a chirp of an insect. George was certain that the creatures disturbing the peace were some that he had never seen before, and past his faint curiosity, he knew he didn't feel compelled to search. Not that it was something he feared, but that it was something kept the garden from being an ideal. His bare feet sunk into fertile soil and a weak breeze ruffled his hair and robes. Instinctively, his hand reached to his shoulder, where he knew there was a deep, fresh cut. But he felt only smooth skin. Not wanting to dwell on the matter, he knelt down and pulled a flower from the garden. It was purple with hints of yellow around the edges. Starting on the path again, he pressed it to his nose and let the aroma envelope his senses. It was beautiful to the sight and delicious to the sense, twisting the flower in his fingers, he let his mind empty.  
  
"Are you enjoying this Yretri?" Without realizing, someone had appeared on the path in front of him. It was a women, black locks cascaded down her back and seemingly inhuman eyes shined with stars. Her voice was soft and deafening at the same time and made George think of baying wolves.  
  
"Who are you?" George asked, voice light with wonderment. He shivered.  
  
The women giggled, a crash of waterfall. "The Goddess."  
  
George only nodded, not amazed or frightened by it. "You wouldn't be here to help a poor old mortal like me, would ya?" He gave a wry smile and brought the flower back to where he could bask in the aroma.  
  
"Your rational, I can see why Alanna is drawn to you." It was a matter of fact statement from the God.  
  
George nodded. "Yeah, the lass is to proud for her own good, it does her well to be around the likes of me." He let the flower drop from his hand, he watched it hit the ground, then the edges wilted and it burned in black flames until nothing was left. "I miss her, gods, it's like I can't breath some of the time, and it's not because of the.." He stopped and took a breath, eyes still to the barren area where the flower had fallen. "pain." His mouth uttered finally.  
  
The Goddess didn't say anything.  
  
"She's not dead, is she?" He drew his gaze toward his god and was greeted to silence. "Because I know a symbol when I see one, and that was a blatant one at best." His voice was beginning to quiver. "If she's dead I swear by Mithros that I will kill that bastard who call himself the king and-"  
  
"It's not Jonathan's fault." The Goddess cut him off and met his eyes with her own drowning pools of sable.  
  
George gave a harsh laugh and yet he couldn't find the humor. "I find that hard to believe."  
  
"It wasn't his fault." She repeated again.  
  
He shook his head. "This is another one of those dreams, isn't it? Well, I don't want anything to do with it. Last time whatever it was had me kill her, and I'm not doing that again, I'll go insane."  
  
The Goddess blinked and suddenly the environment changed. Instead of the midnight garden, he was in an elaborate room, probably one of the palace. He was seeing through a birds eyes view, and there was Jonathan, crying to his wife's shoulders, blood pooled below them.  
  
"Get away from her you bastard!" George try to move, but he couldn't. "This is another one of your tricks isn't it? Your not the goddess, what would the goddess care." He raged on. "Just kill me already, kill me and get it over with!"  
  
Before he could say another word, he was in the garden again, and facing the god.  
  
"You poor, poor soul." She muttered quietly. "What has this one mortal done to you all?"  
  
George tried to say something, but couldn't. His emotions had been played again, he felt happy and content, though his mind was boiling with rage.  
  
The Goddess held up a hand. "Let me explain."  
  
He nodded.  
  
"It was our fault." She said. "We knew that the man from Galla had more power then was normal, but we didn't expect that it was so... extreme."  
  
"What do you mean by that?" George asked without realized that he could speak again.  
  
"His gift rivaled that of even Mithros." She put simply. "But, we were all so preoccupied with the growing tension between Scanra and Tregeet that we didn't notice. Before our blind eyes, he had become the strongest sorcerer on the world." George watched as she took in a breath and wondered if gods needed to breath. "But he's a megalomaniac and needed more power. So, he stumbled across a writing about the Arian papers. He traveled to Tortall and, even for reasons lost to the gods, he became obsessed with the lady knight."  
  
"The first time Jonathan raped me.." George re gathered his thoughts. "When I encountered the king, he asked where the Arian papers were."  
  
The goddess nodded. "As you know, they allow anyone who can manipulate them to steal others gifts. And, because you hid them in Mauldawn, he had no idea where they were."  
  
"How do you know..." The ex thief started, then silenced himself, reminding his jumpy mind that she was a god after all.  
  
She went on as though never interrupted. "He thought the king might know of the whereabouts of the papers, so he enslaved his mind, took him under full control. Only then did he find that the king knew nothing of the Arian. But he was able gather the conversation that you and the king had had, the one where you told Jonathan about the papers and how you had hid them long ago."  
  
George nodded solemnly.  
  
"He went on to take Alanna as his own, knowing that you would go to find her eventually. And," She said. "You know the rest."  
  
He looked around, "Is that it?"  
  
"Don't just go running in." She gave a soft laugh. "Remember, Truth is at sight."  
  
George awoke in the same dark room he had been beaten in last. He couldn't see anything through the darkness but a thin film of light streaming in from under the door. The chains which had grabbed his wrists and would of never let go, lay clumped in a pile. Just as he was about to head off, he noticed that there was no pain, letting one hand move to his shoulder, he felt a scar instead. Grinning, he set his hand on the door. He was going to Mauldawn.  
  
AN: Blech, the voice in this chapter sucks! Sucks sucks sucks! Ok, well, if you did enjoy it, I want..hm.. 70 reviews, yes, that sounds good. Oh, and sorry for the long delay, life caught up with me, hate it when that happens. The story will be ending next chapter, and I hope this one cleared up some confusion. 


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